Writer: Timothy Dumont Jr.
Co-writer: Crystal Ferguson

Friday, June 3, 2011

189: Common Threat, Common Goal, Uncommon Alliance -Carl-

I was yanked out of the worst nightmare of my life to find myself face to face with one of those horrible Abhorians. The look of surprise was evident on the Abhorian's face even with the deformed shape. It took a step back as I pulled myself to my feet.

In the middle of the room stood Ben and a translucent girl staring at a young boy with a triumphant look. The boy looked just as surprised as the Abhorian, but there was something else mixed with the surprise. I had seen the look before in other Gods that I'd fought. None of them expected me to triumph, and when I did a look of intense fear fell over them. That was on the boy's face right now.

The entire room was filled with noise as everyone who apparently had been sleeping woke up. Next to me Christina pulled herself to her feet, and nodded toward the people in the center of the room.

"The small boy is Bob, the God of Fear." She spoke with an edge to her voice, almost a hatred.

"Bob? He couldn't have chosen something more fitting?"

"What do you mean? Bob is his name.", she sounded confused.

"Couldn't have chosen something that instills more terro-"

"That's not important. Your friend there is in trouble. We have to get over there."

"We're surrounded by Abhorians."

"Yeah, but they aren't moving."

She was right. In fact they were moving away, back toward the door. Fear isn't what motivated them . . . it was almost as though they were being summon back to the door.

The young boy, Bob, noticed their movements, "Where are you going? Who said you could leave? I'm your master. I'm your boss."

They ignored him and kept walking, "STOP! I command it! Listen to me!"

One of the Abhorians turned around and stared at Bob, "You have failed me. You let mere humans get the upper hand and now your fate lies with them."

"You can't take them away from me. This isn't fair."

"Oh, Bob. Dear, stupid, childish Bob. Life isn't fair. Do you think it was fair when you killed the Teddy Bear and the Fairy in cold blood? Do you think it's fair that most of your victims couldn't fight back? Stop being such a coward and face what you've sewn.", the Abhorian turned and continued to walk away.

"MARDOCKT!", Bob cried as the last Abhorian disappeared into the door.

I didn't wait for anyone to speak, I spoke first, "VINCENT! VINCENT, YOU STUPID BEAR, SAY SOMETHING!"

I jumped over a few bodies and ran into the door room toward a tan clump on the floor, "VINCENT!"

Crystal ran up beside me and we both stared at the torn pieces of cloth, the remains of Vincent.

"Carl. Vincent's gone?"

I had never been more angry. Vincent was annoying and completely obnoxious, but he didn't deserve to die. I turned to look at Bob, who was still getting over the fact that he'd been abandoned and was now surrounded by a bunch of people who really didn't like him much.

"Get the children and civilians out of here.", I was shaking with anger as I walked over toward Bob.

Bob watched me with uncertainty hidden beneath a mask of confidence. I'd seen it before . . . many, many Gods looked at me the same way before I killed them. This one would be no different. I stared at his eyes with out averting my gaze or changing my expression. As I approached I watched his expression change and slowly the uncertainty overcame the confidence.

"Christina, watch as I show you proof as to how weak humans are. I'll kill this human . . . and then go to the res-"

"No you won't, Bob.", Christina spoke, "These humans . . . they aren't the same as they once were. I'm not sure what happened but they've grown to be stronger. That one walking up to you held his own against an Abhorian with no magic, or special abilities. He also survived a Sprite curse for many, many years. These people whom you have judged as weak and then hurt, are much much stronger than either of us would have expected. But, Bob?"

Now there was fear laced throughout his face, "What?"

She walked toward the front door of the museum and then turned, "Maybe you should have helped me when I was pleading for it in the war."

With that, she was gone.

"You Bitc-" His sentence never finished on account of my fist smashing into the side of his head.

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